


Shedding

by GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Ineffable husbands - Fandom
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Snakes, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 03:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21313687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster
Summary: Crowley needs assistance with a mildly embarrassing issue.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 63
Kudos: 443
Collections: The Snake Pit





	Shedding

**Author's Note:**

> safe for work, nothing more than a couple of swear words, and happy snek cuddles

Aziraphale looked across in alarm as he heard Crowley swearing and the tinkle of broken china on the wooden floor. “Blast the bollocking putrid bastard thing!” He scooped up the broken bits of coffee cup from beside the low table next to the sofa and carried them through to the small kitchenette, and swore again as he bumped into the door frame, hitting his elbow painfully, he let stream a cascade of blasphemies and threw the broken china pieces in the bin, grabbing his elbow and hissing angrily. “ShitFuckBuggerBollocksFuckingArseholeJesusFuckingChristOnABike!”

Aziraphale shook his head disapprovingly. “Really, dearest, do you have to?” he admonished mildly. Crowley grunted from the next room, and returned with kitchen roll to clean up the spilled drink, then yelped again as he bashed his knee on the coffee table. He lashed out, kicking it savagely across the room. That was not normal behaviour. Aziraphale was concerned. “Perhaps we should go for a walk, dearest, clear your head a little”. Crowley glowered and scratched his shoulder with irritation.

“Sure, yeah, whatever, angel. Just get me out of here.”

Crowley was unusually irritable as well as uncharacteristically clumsy, and tripped over kerbs a couple of times, until Aziraphale took his arm gently and guided him along, confused as to Crowley’s strange behaviour. Every now and then he scratched irritably at his scalp, arms and shoulders, fidgeting. Aziraphale couldn’t bear it any longer. “Dearest, what’s _wrong_?”

Crowley grimaced in reply “mph”, a noncommittal grump. “s’nothing” he muttered tetchily.

“It’s _not_ nothing, Crowley, something’s _wrong_, what is it?” the angel pressed him, stroking his arm comfortingly. “You can tell me, dearest. It’s not like you to be this cantankerous.” He suddenly yanked back on Crowley’s arm as he nearly walked into the path of a car crossing the street. “_Crowley_!” he yelled in alarm. “Look at me!” He stopped to face his love, and held up 3 fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Crowley glared at him, irascible, and squinted. “Four?” he hazarded.

Aziraphale looked back at him, shocked. “Crowley, can’t you _see_?” The tall lanky form shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and scratched at his arm irritably.

“’s temporary, don’t worry about it."

“What do you mean, temporary? What’s going on?”

Crowley looked embarrassed. “Shedding” he muttered under his breath.

“Pardon?”

“I’m shedding” he snapped back, grouchy.

“Shedding?”

Crowley sighed, exasperated. “You know how even when your wings aren’t even in this ethereal plane but you can feel them itching, and need to bring them into reality now and then for preening? It’s like that, but my snake aspect. It’s itching like bloody termites are crawling all over me, and I can’t see properly either, it’s affecting my eyes even on this plane.” He looked utterly miserable.

“Oh dearest, I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was a thing. Can I help at all? What do you need?”

“Dunno really, privacy, water, rough rocks and tree bark to coil around, not exactly in plentiful supply around here. I usually take a holiday when it happens, hang out on a tropical beach for a bit, but haven’t had chance to get away and it’s driving me fucking NUTS.”

Aziraphale twinkled. “I have an idea” he whispered, conspiratorially, and guided Crowley by the arm to Piccadilly Circus tube station, a short walk from Soho, and took the Piccadilly line through to Earl’s Court, changing to a District line train before alighting at Kew Gardens. Crowley couldn’t really tell where they were anyway, his vision clouded by the build-up over his serpentine eyes, and allowed himself to be led by the angel, trusting him implicitly, before squinting up at the vast white and shining edifice before them, not quite recognising where he was.

Aziraphale paid for admission for two, and companionably walked Crowley through Kew Gardens, taking in the soft scent of spring blooms, and admiring the butterflies and bees which frolicked around them. Eventually they came to the palm house and stepped through the door into the hot, humid interior. Crowley could hear water cascading and splashing, echoing off the enormous Victorian glasshouse walls and gazed around in wonder at the verdant luxury he could discern through his clouded vision. “Oh, _angel_…” he gasped appreciatively.

Aziraphale smiled, released Crowley’s arm, and waved a complicated sigil in the air. All humans in the building suddenly lost interest and wandered toward the exits, none quite sure why, but inexplicably felt the need to explore other areas of the attraction, until the palm house was empty save for the two of them.

Crowley sighed and relaxed into his serpent form, 15 feet of coiling red and black muscle, scales duller than Aziraphale remembered, flaking and peeling. With a happy hiss, he slithered off into the undergrowth, coiling contentedly around rough tree bark and decorative volcanic rocks, dipping his head under water drips from leaves and shallow pools. He wedged his sides against tree trunks and tugged the annoying dead scales from his lithe body with ecstatic little wriggles. Aziraphale sat himself down on a bench and enjoyed the spectacle.

Crowley became more animated, and plunged forward into a little rock pool of splashing water, roiling around, tongue flickering with glee, then out again and up a thorny shrub, scratching more shreds of dead skin from his shining scales underneath.

He plopped down from above into Aziraphale’s lap, and burrowed his head into the angel’s arms, using the soft fabric of his jacket to ease the eyecaps off his face, then gazed up into Aziraphale’s eyes, hissing contentedly for a moment, before slithering off again to carry on working the remaining shed from his flanks. Aziraphale beamed fondly at him.

The serpent was having a little trouble pulling the last section free, working it back and forth against a rock, and then felt gentle hands stroking his coils. He looked up to see the angel petting him, and stilled, allowing Aziraphale to gently pull and roll the last shreds of skin from his shining scales, leaving him pristine and new.

With a satisfied slither, he coiled up to rest around the Angel’s shoulders, giving him the gentlest hug he could manage. He was too large for the angel’s body to fit his entire form comfortably, so he left most of his coils on the ground, and instead cuddled only his midsection around Aziraphale’s, reaching up to rest his head on his love’s shoulder, tongue flicking in an untroubled manner, occasionally tickling Aziraphale’s cheek and ear playfully, making him giggle.

Aziraphale reached up and stroked Crowley’s smooth new skin fondly. “Beautiful as you are, dearest, perhaps you’d better change back, I can’t hold this building shut forever, and you’re a little large to pass off as a pet”. Crowley shrugged – an impressive piece of biomechanics for a creature with no shoulder blades, but he managed it nonetheless, and shifted back into his humanoid form.

The change found him standing behind Aziraphale, arms wrapped around his waist where his coils had been, and head resting on his shoulder, eyes closed, tranquil. Aziraphale turned his own head and kissed the side of Crowley’s face lovingly. Crowley turned his head, blinked, smiled and kissed him back on the lips. “Thank you, angel, I love you.”

“I love you too, you wily old serpent. Shall we carry on admiring the plants for a while before we go home?” Crowley nodded serenely.  
  
None of the staff noticed the small rare potted jungle plant tucked under his jacket as they left.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a chapter on wing preening into another fic (Hunting Ealing), and had some snek stuff happening there too, so thought "if their wings get so itchy, what happens about Crowley's snake form?" And thus snek preening was born. Crowley the Judgemental Shoelace/Nope Rope/Danger Noodle/Hazard Spaghetti/Murder Spagurder/Spicy Noodle/Screaming WormBoi is too cute a headcanon to ignore.
> 
> Link to video explaining the snek euphemisms [ HERE ](https://youtu.be/6p3uT_Gzhis?t=68)


End file.
